General Non-Fiction posted September 27, 2016 Chapters:  ...35 36 -37- 38... 


Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
it was all in God's hands

A chapter in the book Family 6

Our Fight For Life

by Barb Hensongispsaca


I was forty-two years old and had just survived the most brutal spousal abuse from a sadistic alcoholic that anyone could survive and still be considered sane. Slightly deformed from all the bones that were not properly reset from being broken by my angry husband, I was thrilled to be escaping with my life.

This is what I wanted to write about for the contest, but what I realized was the 'fight of my life' was what followed these sixteen terror filled years with the man of my dreams.

A few weeks after escaping the demon of death, I checked myself into a hospital for an evaluation of just what damage I would live with for the rest of my life. The hospital was very thorough in every test they did while poking and prodding at a body that one nurse said, "should have laid down and died".

After being informed that corrective procedures to reverse the bone damage would cost me more than I would make in five hundred years, I opted to live with what I was dealt. When I was taken into the surgeon's office for the final verdict, I did not go prepared for what I was to hear. I was about to enter the fight of my life.

"You're pregnant" was followed by "You have cancer".

My emotions bombed as my mind struggled to comprehend which sentence I needed to deal with first. As the surgeon talked, I realized they were both interconnected and both had to have an answer. I had cervical cancer and I was two months pregnant.

"It's no problem, really," I remembered him saying. "One problem takes care of the other."


Then, while I dabbed at my tears, he proceeded to explain that 'we' would just terminate the pregnancy and do a hysterectomy. Two problems solved. He was just waiting for my answer that would give him the go ahead to get the procedures started.

I sat there numb, alone, and very frightened. Not sure of what to do, I told him I had to think about it. Confused, he asked me what there was to think about. It was all cut and dried to him. He told me if I thought about having the baby, then I was signing both death sentences; but, if I went with his suggestion, I would live a long and happy life.

I have to admit, my faith was shaken hard during my sixteen years of hell; but, I also believed in fate and I knew there was a power working overtime that I could not ignore.

I was informed of the risks to myself if I waited, but I wanted to hear the risks to 'the' baby. This took him back a little, but he appeased my curiosity. I was told if I waited it might cost me my life by allowing the cancer to grow and spread to the point that it would be untreatable. He told me the baby would be encased in it's own protective bag and 'should' be okay. There were no guarantees.

I made my decision...'the' baby became 'my' baby. I refused the surgery. What followed was a path of hills and mountains that left me with worry about the future of my baby. I had to find someone to care for her or him because I knew I was going to die.

The next seven months were filled with tests, tests, and more tests. Even though there was no way of decisively knowing the outcome, I felt that my baby would be okay. My best friend said she would take the baby so I laid plans for Sandy to legally take her from the hospital, but would not be responsible for any bills.

I found a full time job while I lived in a rat infested trailer just to have a roof over my head. Without having a car, I walked the two miles one way each day. I believe that this helped with what was about to come.

As my time grew near, decisions had to be made. I opted to have my baby natural as the doctors feared that any interference would cause more harm to both of us. None of my specialists could understand why I had no symptoms of anything other than pregnancy.

When my water broke, I called my mother to tell her goodbye...just in case. The labor was slow and steady. What I remember most was the team of surgeons standing by. I just prayed to hear that special cry when he or she entered the world.

At two pm, she was born. I heard her cry. I heard the doctor say that she was okay. I felt the mask go over my face...then darkness.

As I struggled my way out of oblivion, the nurse was there at my side. I was told the surgery was a success and that the cancer seemed to stop growing for some reason during my pregnancy. In the next instant, my baby girl was in my arms and I looked into the face of perfection.

It is now twenty-five years later and I still smile every time I look into her face of perfection.


words 902











What was the Fight of your Life? contest entry


VMarguarite thank you for allowing me to use your picture.

This is true and it was the definite fight of our lives.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by VMarguarite at FanArtReview.com

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